Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“We make a great team,” she says, her eyes shining. “But my mind’s made up. I need to stay flexible for my future, too. But I know myself. If we date for a year and a half, there’s no way that doesn’t affect my choice of what job to take after grad school. And I can see myself making other compromises, too, ones I’ve always promised myself I wouldn’t make.”
“Okay, but…is that necessarily a bad thing?” I ask, tugging my sweatshirt on and running a hand through my wild hair. “I mean, I would be compromising right along with you. That’s part of caring about someone and building a life with them. Yeah, it can make things more complicated, but it can also make everything so much fucking better. I’ve had more fun this past week than I’ve had in longer than I can remember. And that’s all because of you, Hepburn. Because, as much as I may regret confessing this later, and as sweet as most of them are, your family drives me crazy after about fifteen minutes.”
She laughs, but her smile fades almost immediately, and she lifts a hand to rub at the back of her neck. “Yeah, I know. They’re exhausting.” Her arm falls back to her side. “But they mean well. Mostly. And Lauren could really use some sisterly TLC right now, even if she won’t admit it. So, I’m going to move into her room for our last night at the lodge and try to cheer her up. I can still go to the hockey game with you later if you want, but I think it’s better for me to sleep alone.”
My jaw tightens. “Please, Harlow. Give me half an hour. We can talk on the couch in the living room if you want. Just talk through this with me. You have nothing to lose and a sexy boyfriend with a super talented dick who adores you to gain. This is really a no-brainer.”
She smiles, but the sadness tightening her eyes remains. “I wish you well, Derrick. I really do. You’re an amazing guy who’s going to find an amazing girl who won’t hesitate to follow you to the ends of the earth. Hell, she’ll probably love moving to a new town every few years and being your stay-at-home hockey boss wife. And in ten years, when you’ve got this gorgeous family and a killer career, you’ll look back and be so glad you waited to find the person who’s perfect for you and who wouldn’t hold you back.”
“Hold me back,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “Please, Harlow. Don’t run away from this. From us.”
“I’m not running away. That’s why I’m here talking this through with you, even though it hurts like hell.” She sucks in a breath, her eyes shining again as she adds, “But it really does hurt, Derrick. So, I’m going to go before I start crying and make my mascara run before breakfast. Thank you again for everything you’ve done for me and my gram. She’s having the best time and a lot of that is because of you. So…thank you. And I’ll see you around, okay?”
She opens the door and takes the handle of her already packed suitcase. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” I echo, standing frozen in place as she crosses the room and steps through the door.
It thunks heavily closed behind her and I lean over and punch the mattress. I punch it again and again, but the burst of violence brings no relief. The only thing that would do that is Harlow coming back into the room and telling me she’s changed her mind.
But that isn’t going to happen. Once Harlow’s mind is made up, it’s like quick-drying concrete. By the time we head to the game tonight, she’ll have her walls up again. She’ll be back to holding me at a safe distance, but I’ll still be spiraling. Regretting. Fucking hurting like hell.
Which means there’s only one thing to do…
Calling the Muskrats’ main office, I leave a message explaining that my girlfriend is sick, and I have to take her back to the city, but that I hope to come catch a game soon. Then I throw my shit into my bags, call to request my SUV from the valet, and shrug on my coat.
I stand in the middle of the room for a moment, silently thanking it for the memories—I wouldn’t trade them for anything, no matter how much this hurts—and then I head out the door and down the stairs. I wait until I’m miles away, paused at the stop sign at the end of the narrow road leading up to the resort to text Harlow that I’m heading back to the city and that she should grab a ride home with her sister or parents tomorrow.